Stay
by She-Loved-Too-Easily
Summary: Dean Winchester had never been particularly fond of Christmas, but even he couldn't deny that this was the worst Christmas day he'd ever had to endure. With Kevin gone and his brother still lost, the silence of the empty bunker is killing him, and he can't help but reach out to the one person he needs most right now... Destiel/One Shot


_Destiel One Shot, set after episode 9x09 'Holy Terror'. _

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**Stay**

Guilt. Guilt was the only emotion Dean felt right now. There was so much guilt that it was consuming his very being, not leaving much room for any other feelings. Granted, perhaps guilt was not the only emotion that Dean Winchester was experiencing at the moment… There was also a royal amount of emptiness. Loneliness. And above all else, there was _pain._ Lots and lots of pain. Too much pain for one human being to deal with.

Despite the fact that Dean had never been one for celebrating Christmas, not even he could deny that this was without a doubt the shittiest Christmas he'd ever had to endure. Kevin was no longer with him. Dead. Lost forever. The young prophet who'd had every intention of helping the two brothers out no matter what, even embracing them as his new _family, _was gone for good_._ And as far as the oldest Winchester was concerned, it was all _his_ fault. His fault, for not letting Kevin know what was truly going on with Sam. His fault, for not warning Kevin that some unknown angel was hiding inside his younger brother's body. He should've told the kid. After all, angels were dicks. They were unpredictable, and they definitely couldn't be trusted. _Ever_. Dean had learned this lesson the hard way... And yet, he had failed to prevent this from happening. He had failed to save Kevin, which meant that he'd had to watch yet another member of his already small family pass away…

In the weeks after Gadreel had left, claiming that Sam was long gone, Dean had done all the research he could manage without falling apart. He was desperately keeping himself occupied, attempting to not get completely swallowed by the huge black hole that was threatening to suck him in.

But he soon realized that this was _too huge_. It was too much, even for a professional hunter like Dean. Even when putting his emotions aside, trying to purely focus on the job, he had no clue where to start. For one he needed to find Gadreel, and make sure to get the angel tablet back. But even _if_ he succeeded, he would have to find a new prophet… He would never be able to translate the stupid thing himself, and without a proper translation, there was no way he could even begin to set anything right. Dean was at a loss what to do, and he was slowly losing his mind over it…

Which is how he had ended up here, sulking on the couch on Christmas day. The only company he had was a bottle of cheap whiskey. It was starting to get dark outside, and he'd turned the TV on in an attempt to put an end to the everlasting silence. As it was, he was restlessly flicking through channels. To his dismay, all he could find were way-too-cheerful Christmas movies and Christmas specials consisting of celebrities singing various songs that were filled with joy and happiness.

At some point he aggressively threw the remote at the screen. There was a loud thud when the small plastic device hit the front of the outdated television, leaving a large crack in the glass.

"Dammit!" Dean cursed loudly.

He reached for the liquor again, craving another drink, only to find that the bottle was empty.

The hunter groaned. "Seems that even a drink is too much to ask these days... My family's gone, my friends are gone… If you are still out there somewhere, _God_… Well you must obviously hate me, huh?"

He let himself slide from the couch, his knees hitting the ground in a way that was rather painful. He rested his head on the small table in front of him, pushing the empty bottle aside. He was positive that he'd never felt more miserable in his life. He had reached the state where he didn't even know how to care anymore. All he knew was that he needed comfort, any form of consolation. In fact, he was currently contemplating to reach out to the one person that he didn't want to bother, yet needed more than anything right now. Because let's face it, he would _always_ need him...

The name slipped from his lips before he could restrain himself.

"Cas…"

At first he'd only uttered the name instinctively, but as he slowly realized that Castiel was technically an angel again, it hit Dean that he should be able to hear Dean's prayers again.

"Look man, I know you're busy… And in the middle of a war… But _please_ Cas, I need you here."

Dean took a deep breath, rubbing his forehead. "I know the past few months have been… rocky. But we can work it out, okay? Right now, you and I… we're all that's left. Please, come back to me…"

Of course Dean was well aware that he sounded pathetic, but he was too drunk to feel any shame. Not to mention tired. Or perhaps 'exhausted' was a more fitting term. He crawled back onto the couch, lying down on his side, silent tears streaming down his face as he fell into a long, restless sleep…

-xxx-

"Dean… Dean?"

Dean smiled at the sound of that voice. Even if God himself disliked Dean, at least the man still cared enough to present him with a pleasant dream like this. The deep, warm sound of Castiel's voice was by far Dean's favorite sound in the world.

"Hmm, Cas…" He mumbled drowsily.

"Wake up, Dean. Are you alright? What's wrong? You said you needed me, what's going on?"

Suddenly a warm hand was pressed against Dean's forehead, and his eyes flew open at once. He got up into a sitting position faster than was humanly possible, his startled eyes landing on the dark-haired angel that was standing over him.

Cas jerked back his hand as if he'd been burned, his blue eyes closely monitoring Dean.

"I'm sorry, Dean. It was not my intention to scare you… But when you called for me, I assumed something was wrong. Of course it took me a little longer to get here, seeing as I have to travel the human way now…"

Dean cleared his throat, not sure how to respond. Because what was there to say? Nothing was wrong with him. Nothing more than usual anyway. Nothing that Cas didn't know yet…

"Nothing is wrong, Cas… I just needed you." Dean's voice was trembling a bit as his confession spilled out. His head felt heavy, and he wasn't sure if the whiskey was the only cause for that.

Cas squinted, the way he always did when he was confused, hesitantly sitting down next to Dean on the worn out couch, turning his head to look his friend in the eye.

"I figured that much, Dean… You need me, I'm here… So what do you need me for? Tell me, and I'll do my best to help you."

An exasperated sigh fell from Dean's lips, seeing as Cas didn't seem to get it. "I need you to…"

But he couldn't finish his sentence, because he wasn't really sure exactly _what_ it was that he wanted from Castiel.

The puzzled frown on Cas' face grew more pronounced. Nevertheless, he tried to help Dean out. "You need me to what? Do you have a lead on Gadreel? The angel tablet? Or did you manage to track down a new prophet? Just tell me what you need and I shall try to help you out, anything you wish, Dean. You know that…"

Dean's eyes were trapped in those large pools of blue. They made him feel weak in the stomach, but in a good way. Those eyes were showing nothing but concern. Cas was looking at him as if he was the most important thing to ever exist. More important than heaven, or hell, or demons, or angels. More important than God himself. His angel had returned to him, even though said angel clearly believed that Dean had only needed him to help clean up the mess. And Dean _hated_ himself for it.

And yeah, how on earth could he blame Cas for thinking that way? This was the only signal Dean had given the angel lately… _'I need you to save my brother, I need you to help me fight my battles, I need you because you have useful powers'_… And then when Cas had become an ordinary human, Dean had no other choice but to send him away without any logical explanation, and naturally Cas had come to his own conclusions. _Of course_ he had assumed that Dean only needed him because his stupid angel mojo came in handy every now and then.

"No Cas, I… I've got nothing. I just need you to be… to be _here_." Dean muttered, giving Cas a brief sideways glance before dropping his eyes to the floor again.

Castiel finally seemed to catch on, and he let out a deep breath, gently placing his hand on Dean's arm. Dean gathered the courage to look up at the angel again, seeing that Cas was smiling wistfully at him. Dean had no idea what that meant, but decided _whatever_, he just needed Cas. And so he took what he could get, leaning in to his friend's touch, hesitantly snuggling into his side. If Cas was surprised at all, he hid it pretty damn well. He lightly draped his arm around Dean, resting his chin on the top of Dean's head.

"I've wanted you right here with me ever since Metatron ripped out your grace…" Dean whispered into Cas' jacket. "I wanted you to be safe, here in the bunker, where I could keep an eye on you. Sam wanted you here too, but I couldn't even tell him why you couldn't stay, why I had to send you away... I wanted to teach you everything about being human, show you that there are also good things… I'm tired of the odds always being against us, I'm sick of always being apart from you. I need you to stay with me... The angels, Sam, Gadreel, Metatron… I know we both have a lot of work on our hands, but _please_, let's just do it together."

Castiel remained quiet as Dean blurted out everything that he'd been wanting to confess for months now.

"I just want you to be near me, whether you're human, or an angel, or whatever the hell it is that happens from here… Please Cas, _stay_."

"I had no idea, Dean." Dean felt Cas' warm breath against his hair when he spoke. "If I'd known you wanted me here, I would've returned to you the instant Gadreel left… I was just offering you some space. After everything that's happened between us, I assumed that that's what you preferred…"

"Of course you didn't know. That's all _my_ fault… I screwed up, man." Dean's reply was nearly inaudible against the fabric of Cas' clothes, but still loud enough for an angel to be able to make out the words.

"We've both made mistakes." Cas reminded him.

"Not arguing with that." A humorless chuckle escaped Dean's throat as his left hand held on tighter to Cas' sleeve. "But please, let's just promise to not make any more stupid decisions from now on. Decisions like staying apart… Not unless there's absolutely no other choice."

Dean lifted his head as far as Castiel's embrace allowed him, and without thinking, he placed a light yet determined kiss against the soft skin of the angel's neck where he could reach him. Again; if Cas was shocked at all, he didn't show it.

Instead, Dean felt how a hand was lightly pressed against his jaw, forcing him to look up. Cas' eyes seemed to be looking straight into his soul when green met blue.

"I'll stay Dean… If you want me to stay with you, who am I to refuse? I'll stay, and we'll fix things _together_. And we will get your brother back, _I promise_."

The relief that Dean felt was immense, and he let out a heavy sigh. "Thanks Cas, I…"

But before he could finish his little word of gratitude, Cas was the one surprising him for once. He cut Dean off by leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. It was brief, innocent, but they both knew that it meant _everything_. When Cas pulled away, Dean was stunned at first, but the corners of his mouth gradually turned up into a tiny smile. It was Dean's first smile in weeks.

Cas mirrored Dean's expression, a similar reserved smile now gracing his face. "Merry Christmas, Dean..."

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_Every time I read a happy Christmas-at-the-bunker fic where everyone is okay and alive, I just get sad and cry because I'm reminded that Kevin is dead and Sam is gone, and so I wrote this... but look, now I only made myself even more sad. Anyway, thanks for reading, goodbye friends_


End file.
